


FOOLS.

by junsnow



Series: SPRING. [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Fluff, Jonsa Spring Challenge, Mostly Fluff, Post S7, This is my first work without smut? Feels weird.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junsnow/pseuds/junsnow
Summary: “You’re more of a fool than I am,” he says.She scoffs.“You have to be, if you don’t see how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”





	FOOLS.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this isn't much, but I wanted to participate. Hope you'll like it :P

The silence of the room did nothing to calm Jon’s nerves. Sansa sat by the fire in her solar, her back straight and her face a cold mask as she stared into the flames. Jon tried not to notice how the light covered her skin with a warm glow, how it glowered on her copper strands, but it was no use. He sighed.

 

Finally, Sansa broke the silence, her voice calm and controlled. “So…your letter wasn’t lying. You really bent the knee.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“To a _Targaryen_ , no less.” She turned to face him, and Jon braced himself for the impact her gaze would have on him. Her blue eyes pierced him. “Do you know how the Lords will react? The people? How _loyal_ do you think they’ve all been since you left?”

 

“Sansa—”

 

“I know you don’t trust me enough to discuss your plans, Jon, much less by raven, but this…” She stops, takes a deep breath. Despite the attempt at calming herself, her voice rises, “This is exactly the kind of thing that gets you murdered. It’s exactly what I told you _not_ to do!”

 

Her cheeks are turning a deep pink now, and Jon feels himself flush in response. “I had to adjust my plans to the situation. I couldn’t tell you over—”

 

“So taking her to bed wasn’t in the _original_ plans, then? I’m glad you could adjust so _cleverly_ , Jon. Robb would be proud, I’m sure!” Jon can’t tell what hurts more, her disappointed look, or her next words, “I thought you were different.”

 

It must show on his face.

 

“Don’t look so shocked. People talk, Jon. By now, everyone from White Harbor to The Wall knows you’re in love with her. You should have known better—”  

 

“I’m not in love with her,” he blurts out.

 

For a fleeting moment, Jon thinks she looks pleased, but her expression is back to angry in the blink of an eye. “Oh, great difference, that makes! Whether it was love, or just you wanting to bed the _most beautiful woman in the world_ , the results are the same. It’s a bloody mess, and you look like a northern fool!”

 

Sansa is yelling now, like she did in that tent the night before they took back Winterfell. She looks just as formidable as she did that day. Jon swallows.

 

“You’re more of a fool than I am,” he says.

 

She scoffs.

 

“You have to be, if you don’t see how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” Jon doesn’t mean that last bit to slip out, but it does, and he’s left staring back at her, dumbfounded, much like Sansa herself. He _was_ a fool. Why did he say that aloud?

 

Her anger deflates immediately. “I know. I love you too, Jon.” Jon’s heart beats faster. _She loves me. She_ loves _me_. “I know you love your family; I know you love The North.”

 

He frowns. “That’s not what I meant—”

 

 “I’m not saying you betrayed us, Jon, I just want to understand what you were trying to achieve by—”

 

“ _Sansa!_ Listen to me!” She halts, looking at him with wide eyes. “I tried _everything_. I tried to bring her to our side, to fight with us, but Daenerys only wanted two things: The Iron Throne and me. I can’t give her the throne, so I used the tools I had. It had nothing to do with love _or_ lust—nor could it, because my heart already belongs to another. Do you understand now?”

 

 She nods, and her eyes look moist before she turns to look the other way. _What the seven hells?_

 

“You should wait until the war is won to wed the one you love. I imagine Daenerys won’t take it well.”

 

Jon stares at her, disbelieving. _You beautiful fool. How many ways will I have to say it?_

“There’s more.”

 

“More?” When Sansa turns to look at him again, she’s perfectly composed.

 

“Bran talked to me this afternoon. Him and Sam.” Jon gathers his strength. “I’m not your brother. I’m not a Stark.”

 

She rolls her eyes, temper flaring again, “I won’t hear this—”

 

“I’m Rhaegar Targaryen’s son with Lyanna Stark.”

 

One, Two, Three breaths later, and she’s still frozen in place.

 

“But that would make you—”

 

“Your cousin.”

 

“—A _Targaryen_ in the eyes of The North. And in the rest of Westeros, too. Jon, this makes everything _worse._ The two last dragons cavorting with one another? They’ll want your head as a traitor!” Sansa swallows, pacing the room again and bringing her hand to her lips, a gesture he recognizes from whenever she’s deep in thought.

 

“I thought—”

 

She raises her hand to shush him. “Just let me think for a moment.” He closes his mouth, letting her have her time. “…Fuck.”

 

“Excuse me?” He raises his brows. “When did you start using such language, Lady Stark?”

 

“I’ve been spending too much time with Arya. She curses like a sailor now.” She says before sighing and looking at him with pity. “I don’t know what to say, Jon. I can only think of one solution, and you won’t like it.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“It’ll disgust you.”

 

“ _Try me_.”

 

Sansa blushes a deep red. “If we…if we were to wed, I could make you a Stark. I could _protect_ you, like you promised to protect me.” She’s slightly taller than him, but in that moment she looks so small his heart clenches. “…I know you’d never want to. Even if you didn’t love someone else. I’m sorry.”

 

He closes the distance between them, cradling her face in his hands. “Sansa…” he breathes. “There’s only one woman I want to wed.”

 

She closes her eyes, a pained expression on her face. “ _I know!_ I’m sorry, I—”

 

“She’s beautiful, smart, kind…stubborn, absolutely _infuriating_.” He caresses her cheeks with his thumbs. “…but when she looks at me with her pretty blue eyes, all I want is to make her smile.” She opens her eyes, and Jon moves his hands to her hair, running his fingers through her silky strands. “She has the most beautiful, shiny red hair in the Seven Kingdoms, too. Do you know anyone like that?”

 

Sansa frowns. “Are you in love with the red woman?”

 

Jon almost growls. “Seven hells, Sansa! It’s _you_!”

 

He wonders how many times he can make her look so surprised her mouth drops open in one evening. Hopefully, a couple more.

 

 _Would she look like that if brought my mouth between her—_ before he can finish that sinful thought, she smashes his mouth with hers, obliterating any thoughts in his brain.

 

Her lips are soft, deliciously so, and they slant against his as she nips, licks, and sucks at him, making Jon wish they were in her bedchambers instead, so he could lay her down and kiss her on the featherbed, with his body on top of hers. Since they had no such luck, He brings her body closer, as close as they can be, with his arms wrapping around her waist and leaving no space between them. She moans lightly, and Jon revels the sound as he feels her breasts against his chest, her hips against his. He deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into to her mouth to taste her—so sweet, he wants more, always more. He wants to taste all of her.

 

Sansa breaks the kiss to draw breath, and Jon takes the opportunity to bury his face in her neck.

 

“You want to marry me?” She asks, panting.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” he mumbles into the soft skin he’s currently kissing.

 

“And you’re in love with me?”

 

He sucks harshly, making her whimper, then soothes the blooming mark with his tongue. “ _Mmhm_. Have been for months, thanks for asking.”

 

Sansa brings her hands to the back of his head, threading her fingers through his curls. “Gods help us. We’re both fools.” She tugs on his scalp lightly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

 

 _So be it_ , he thought.

 


End file.
